He's Sitting in His Room
by GodspeedEnding
Summary: When he isn't struggling with life, he's doing something else.
1. He's in His Room Getting High Again

He's sitting in his room getting high again.

He doesn't think it's the best feeling.

He knows it is.

It's the only thing that washes away the horrors of life and how utterly terrible it is. It takes those terrible looks he gets from people on the streets into cartoon smiles. Wide eyes and grins that aren't physically possible but Gamzee doesn't much care about that.

He's slipping into bed. He rests his backside on the comforter and sinks in. The bed is eating him, opening up just wide enough for his body to fit within the mold that he's meticulously and effortlessly spent hours at a time perfecting. It's warm and cozy, just like a pie.

He wants a pie.

He'd get up to make one but the bed is swallowing him now. He slips into darkness.

It's black within the confines of his makeshift abyss. He feels like he's falling and he abruptly comes to the conclusion that the world is ending. He keeps sinking it seems, and suddenly it's too warm within the mouth. It's too hot―he starts sweating.

He needs another drag.

In a lazy, fluent, motion he finds himself absently reaching for the joint on his dresser. He accidentally grabs the burnt end. Instead of cursing in pain and flinging it down, he smiles and notes how funny the palm of his hand feels. If he presses too hard the pain could be mistaken for pleasure so that's what he does. He's holds the joint between his ring and middle finger. The world is spinning, his mind is spinning too. All his thoughts and everything he knows swirls into a mess of nonsensical ideas and fragments of what would be coherent pieces of information were he not high. They're open ended speculations and conclusions that don't make sense or he can't seem to make sense of them, one or maybe the other. These brand new thoughts pound in his skull, all these new ideas, he can't get them out of his attention; like what about clocks that shock you to wake you up? Or shoes with automatic shoelaces?

He takes a smoke and holds it in for a while longer than he should. The world beneath his eye lids is filled with swirling colors and flashes of light as he lets out the breath he was holding in. He opens his eyes and the first thing he sees is a clock on the wall.

The hands of the clock are moving back and forth, as if waving to him so he waves back. The numbers become snakes and worms and one becomes a lion; they roam the clock and fight for Gamzee's attention.

The lion wins.

He finds himself gripping the sheets on his bed and then his hands start moving around. He's looking for the joint. He can't find it. Frantically, he spreads his arms out on the bed and begins making snow angels but he still can't find the joint. His search rockets from him making snow angels to him screwing around with the sheets in hopes the joint will fall out one of the flaps. Less worried is he about burning up the comforter than not being able to get high.

It's his last one.

His heart is pounding out of fear; that looming doom kind of fear. He breaks into a cold sweat. He doesn't want this joy to end. He doesn't want to stop seeing colors and watching animals fight for dominance. It can't end. What's he going to do if he can't find it? His chest is burning; his heart is going to explode. The colors are giving him a headache now and he desperately needs another smoke, he needs the colors to keep swirling blissfully beneath his eyelids, for his chest to stop burning!

And then, like an alarm the burning sensation on his chest becomes too intense for him to ignore and he gives in to see what's going on.

It's the joint burning through the thin fabric over his torso.

He sighs in relief that he has his beloved escape from reality is back in his hands. He's glad the world isn't ending anymore. It was a false alarm.

He takes a smoke to return back to normal.

The colors are moving again; red is mixing with green and the result is ugly. He watches as gray clouds his vision and the other colors fade behind the smoky mask.

He breathes out.

Smoke fills the room.

...

He's smoked the entire joint now. It's gone. Burnt away.

But he's not upset. He's still experiencing the aftermath.

He doesn't have to close his eyes anymore to see the kaleidoscope of colors now. They're dancing across the ceiling and the walls. Shapes are starting to be formed and once or twice, he thinks he hears someone calling his name.

Hearing someone call his name makes him feel better, normal, because he remembers reading somewhere once that hearing someone call your name when no one really did was the sign of a healthy mind.

This smoking session was a prize of sorts he bestowed upon himself for being healthy.

He deserved this.

He feels wonderful, like he can do anything. He feels like the entire world has opened up to him and that's just the fuzziest feeling ever. Coupled with how enthralling and captivating this drug induced laser show is, he's having the time of his life.

For a moment, life is beautiful and he's the god that created it.

He's beautiful.

The colors explode and stars begin soaring across the wall, onto the ceiling and he pretends to control their direction. He might actually be controlling them.

He is their god after all.

The stars and animals that he believes himself to be the creator of start to gain minds of their own, and they become too much for Gamzee to control.

He doesn't mind.

He likes watching them become something more.

He likes watching them thrive.

He describes this moment to no one.

"It's a fuckin― fuckin'― _shit_ it's beautiful."

He struggles to find the right words to convey how he really feels but beautiful is the beginning to a long list of words to describe this feeling― this goddamn wonderful sensation.

And it's not only what he's feeling, but what he's seeing.

Those colors aren't just free-form shapes and lines and curves anymore or celestial bodies even. They're faces he thinks.

He definitely sees a nose, a nose shaped like a hook but it's pale white, like unnaturally white so is it really a nose? It could be; who says it can't be?

Gamzee waits with bated breath as more facial features come into view. The eyes are the last to form, with eyelashes that stretch for miles and golden eyes with hints of blood red splashed in the irises. Gamzee thinks he's found a new color.

He's too inebriated to focus on that though as the face starts talking. It's telling him the secrets to life and the key to happiness and everything he's always wanted to hear. Then, the face fades away into millions of other little faces. Each one is a copy of someone, someone he's met before. Someone he knows.

They look like angels.

He's hearing noises again and he assumes he's hearing the angel copies speaking to him.

They're singing.

They're singing just for him.

He listens closely.

Their singing incapacitates him.

...

He has to tell someone about this. About this fantastic experience, this epiphany he's just gone through. It was-

He's got to tell someone.

Someone who'll know what to think. All he has to do is get up from the bed, and walk― no, wait, why walk? He can run, sprint even! He decides he'll run; sprinting sounds like more exertion. He'll run to this person, he'll explain in great detail all about what he saw and what he thinks it means and then ask them what they think, and it'll be great. He'll finally have advice; a second opinion; someone's highly regarded two-cents. Just thinking of all they'll come up with has his heart thumping out of excitement and his body tingling. This is going to be great, what if he's made a break through or a new discovery, or whatever good shit should be called? This is awesome. He's breathing harshly and his chest is about to explode. All because he could talk to someone.

But his legs never move so he never does.

He just remains in bed, star gazing and singing along to the voices of angels on his bedroom walls.


	2. He's at a Party

He's at a party.

It's loud, it's bright, it's alive.

He breathes it all in.

Through his veins the music beats and pumps adrenaline, his heart, blood, and his drink, liquid courage.

He usually doesn't drink, but this is a special occasion.

It must be if he's drinking.

He vaguely remembers filling his cup up for a third time— but then he dropped it mid drink so he got another. So how many drinks has he had then? He attempts at counting but the math hurts his head so he stops. This isn't the place for math anyways.

Bodies move to the sound and he counters their movements as he walks through the crowd, slightly staggering with every other step. People bump into him but he doesn't lose his cool; it's a party, be chill, right?

He feels sweaty for some reason, and he probably smells that way too, but he's too pleased with life to care at the moment. He doesn't review why he's sweaty because the obvious answer is that he's been dancing too much, maybe. Or maybe it's because it's too hot inside the living room with all these people grinding on each other and— fuck, there's so much going on, Gamzee can't believe it.

Even though he's feeling incredibly jaunty at this awesome party, he's not dancing. He's roaming through the crowd, looking for someone.

He doesn't remember who, but he knows they must be really awesome if he's ignoring a party with free smokes being handed out to look for them. He turned down a guy who walked up to him and practically shoved a smoke between his lips, telling him maybe later.

He's not sure why exactly he did that, but he's sure he'll figure it out at some point.

He's been walking within the living room for a while even though the party extends down the hall into the guest room and bedroom and even the bathroom. He'd rather not venture back there; it's probably only some guys setting the bathtub on fire and some blowjobs or something.

He spends five minutes or so— maybe five hours; who knows?— walking through and around the party people, cup in hand and shit— where's his cell phone?

He's not sure.

He's too relaxed to care though; this isn't a place for worrying.

It's a place where the crowd drops with the bass and the bass drops all night long. He has to remember to write that down.

The strobe lights throw the rainbow against Gamzee's face and the rest of the people, never letting up in brightness. The room is drowned in red for a moment, then green, then orange, then blue and the process repeats itself, throwing in other colors in a pattern but Gamzee thinks it's just random colors. He's too preoccupied by the sudden shouting coming from the hallway to notice it is a pattern and there is order beneath the hyper color show.

There's someone shouting from the hallway, not a pained shouting, but an angry and almost authoritative one; one Gamzee recognizes all too well.

It's his best bro, Karkat Vantas.

Karkat's the most noticeable one in the whole crowd despite being shorter than almost everyone.

He's the one blatantly pushing people out the way, like he's carving a straight path to the door.

Gamzee can hear him saying "Fuck you" to anyone who looks at him the wrong way and a nice "Sorry if I'm interrupting your buzz and getting in the way of your sweaty orgy with clothes and that pathetic attempt at drunkenly grinding on that guy you've always had a crush on only to wake up tomorrow with a head-splitting hangover and crude shame and embarrassment that will haunt you until you die. I'm just trying to find my way to the fucking door in this maze of _shit_ and _mistakes_!" Gamzee wants to help him find the way to the door but then Karkat will leave and he doesn't exactly want to leave the party.

He needs to find a way to keep Karkat there and pacified.

Get him into a conversation.

Though it's the lowest and most obvious form of distraction, Gamzee decides he'll engage in a sure to be long winded conversation with Karkat in order to keep him here.

Besides, dude doesn't relax enough.

It's then, as he's watching Karkat struggle, he remembers.

It was Karkat he was looking for.

Gamzee watches with mild amusement as Karkat struggles with getting through the crowd and gets bumped into several times— each time warning the offender to "back the fuck up, you are partying on my foot, fucker."

He waits for Karkat to come closer to him before deciding to step in and greet him.

He decides to surprise his friend so he walks up behind him.

"Karbro."

Karkat turns to Gamzee quickly. He just stares up at him, not sure whether to be relieved that someone he knows is here or angry because it's Gamzee.

He just glares.

"Oh, look, it's everyone's favorite juggalo clown douchebag, motherfucker, _shit—_"

"Missed you too, bro." Gamzee cuts him off, knowing all the curse words Karkat was about to spew and in what order.

"What the fuck do you want anyways?" Karkat seems to be on a shorter fuse than usual.

"Just to get to conversatin' with my bestie."

Gamzee throws an arm over Karkat's shoulder and the latter gripes.

"Don't touch me." He shrugs Gamzee's arm off his shoulder harshly, making sure to emphasize he doesn't want any physical contact by moving away from Gamzee.

Gamzee's too intoxicated to be offended. Not that he would have been anyways.

"If you want to talk you should call me with your new high tech cell fucking phone because I hate it here. I'm leaving."

"Nah, bro, don't do that. You just gotta mellow out and learn to even out all the bad in life with the chill by getting up to get your relax on, on the motherfuckin' couch over there so we can get to talking."

Gamzee gestures to the couch which people are leaning on. Although he was told not to, he puts a hand on Karkat's back and leads him— rather, pushes him, to the couch. Karkat shouts obscenities but Gamzee responds with laughter and more 'chill out bro's.

They reach the couch, and people move so there's space for them to sit.

Gamzee sits down on the sofa that Karkat's hesitant to sit on. "I bet it's waiting for someone to plant their ass on it so it can explode with cum from all the fucking handjobs that have been given on it. It's oozing bodily fluids not to mention it's two comfortably seated asses away from falling apart underneath us." But he sits anyways because Gamzee pulled him down.

Gamzee wastes no time in pulling the classic yawn and stretch— not that he planned to wait anyways or even keep it classic. He just throws his arm over the back of the sofa, behind Karkat's head, and begins to explain the details of his latest high even though no one asked.

Karkat listens with the utmost not giving a shit. He's angry, it seems because he spends most the time Gamzee's talking glaring him down and scowling when Gamzee mentions something stupid— something that made him feel good. This happened to be the entire story, actually.

"And then, there was this... motherfuckin' face. It was all pale like a ghostly motherfucker and... its eye lashes were like sex whips." He isn't sure what he's saying and that's even evident to Karkat. It always has been.

"Gamzee, this better not be some erotica in the form of a dream— I swear."

"Nah, my dreams are just pure and wholesome and all that lovely shit. I just see colors and swirls and it's like I'm the little me again."

"As a kid you saw colors for no reason?"

"There was a lot of wicked shit getting up to work in my brain for the years when I'd need it,"

"Yeah, a lot of fucked up shit. You don't even need to get high; your minds messed up on its own."

Gamzee cracks a smile. He feels like he's just received the greatest compliment ever. Karkat knows him so well.

"What do you think it meant?" Gamzee asks when Karkat has stopped going on about how maybe Gamzee was born already addicted to drugs but then that must mean he did drugs in order to see all those colors for no reason anyways. He came up with two conclusions: that Gamzee was stuck in an eternal state of high or he smoked in his sleep.

"Not even the highest drug lord on mount Everest on the fucking moon could answer your question."

"Maybe if he stopped himself from tyin' his body down on physical planets and let go with the motherfuckin' space wind, he'd come up with out of that world ideas. That's why those motherfuckers say 'outta this world' cuz it ain't on this Earth. If the thing you're up to discussing is up in the clouds, well that's where a motherfucker's minds got to up and be, right?"

"There's no such thing as space wind." Karkat sucks in a breath, clearly keeping himself from saying anything more. Gamzee stares at him, wondering what's gotten up to his little best bro. He's more to himself than usual, which is odd because he's usually never to himself. He could be as loud as this party if he wanted to be, so why isn't he?

"You feelin' alright?" Gamzee asks cautiously, trying to make sure he masks his worry.

"When am I not?" Karkat snaps. He folds his arms over his lap then states, blatantly, "I'm pissed off."

"I know how to cheer a motherfuckin' brother up!" Gamzee goes on to talk about all the crazy shit he came up with for the meaning of what he saw when he was high. If it wasn't obvious before, it should be now that he's only going on about his life and hardly asking Karkat anything about his. Karkat can tell he's drunk, and not just because Gamzee's being completely and way more self-centered than usual but because he reeks of the cheap name brand beer someone offered him a sip of earlier. He slapped it out their hand.

Gamzee tells Karkat about the stuff he left out before— like the angels he saw, and how he was pretty sure he saw an angel copy of Karkat somewhere in the crowd. He rambles on about everything and nothing, and Karkat just listens, pinching the bridge of his nose when appropriate.

"But I can't figure out what was up with the face… Who do you think it was? Or what could it have been meaning?" Gamzee finally asks at the end, when he's done telling Karkat all about the angels and the face and the stars and all his other selfish shit.

"Maybe it was one of your gods." Karkat mutters offhandedly, slightly enraged.

Gamzee suddenly becomes vividly aware of everything around him, of Karkat hunched over on the sofa, burning a hole through the door across the room.

"You really think it was one of them?" Karkat casts a sidelong glance at Gamzee, wondering what's up with the sudden change in his tone.

"Like I would know. I don't follow your religion or get high."

"But could it be?"

"Gamzee, I don't fucking know. If you really want to know what I think; I think you were high, and everyone knows when you get high you see some fucked up shit and usually everyone says they saw Jesus and subsequently, dump all their drugs only to end up becoming a preacher and then going on to preach about their life changing smoke. That's my take on this entire drug induced epiphany. I mean, come on. You said the numbers on your clock turned into, like, fucking snakes and worms and a dolphin or whatever and started battling for dominance. In what scenario will there ever be a dolphin, snake and worm fighting each other?"

"It was a lion, bro."

"Like I care what animal took a shit on your memory banks and left a huge dent in it. I'm saying you probably didn't see clown Jesus."

Gamzee nods.

"And by the way, asshole, here's your phone." Karkat hits Gamzee in his stomach with the object, making sure to punch him at the same time.

"Thanks, man. I was wondering what my device got itself up to." He says even though he barely noticed it's absence in his pocket despite that he remembered having it at the party earlier.

"Oh, _of course_ you were. You always give so many burning shits about what happens to your stuff when you leave it somewhere for someone to pick up and return to you like it's your wallet and this is a utopian society where no one wants anyone else's wallet. And besides, you probably didn't even notice you were missing it! You probably thought it was in your pocket."  
Karkat's angry; everyone and anyone can see that but only Gamzee's seeing the true ire raging behind his eyes.

"What are you up and talkin' about, bro?" Gamzee asks nonchalantly, trying to speak through how drunk he is.

"Goddamn it! Are you that drunk that you don't even remember fucking some bitch just thirty minutes ago in back and leaving your phone back there?! Goddamn it, Gamzee. Take some responsibility for once and control your shit!"

Karkat hits him hard and without warning on the shoulder and Gamzee just lets him because he's confused.

"It's like you can't care about anything ever and you just act without considering how hard the consequences are going to fuck you when the tether ball of life comes back around so it can become acquainted with your face! If you maybe just _learned_ from past mistakes and stopped getting into stuff, we wouldn't be arguing like this right now! But no, that can't happen because you think with your dick when you're drunk! Jesus, could you be any more selfish!?"

"Bro," Gamzee begins but he can't find anymore words to continue what he knows should be said.

So he just talks.

He still can't come up with the right words— even though the right words are "I'm sorry." probably— so he goes on about how he can't seem to remember how he even got to the party, let alone what he did upon arrival.

According to Karkat, though, he fucked with someone. Literally.

Finally, once Karkat has had enough of Gamzee's excuses and incoherent babbling and the way he spews nonsense like he's preaching straight from the pages of shit out of his stupid religion's holy book, he starts screaming at Gamzee. Gamzee has no choice but to sit and listen.

"You are such a discourteous, incognizant, piece of walking shit that shouldn't be allowed to think for himself sometimes because— _honestly_, he can't even do that! Someone like me has to do it for you, which is so stupid because this isn't how I wanted things to work out and—!" Karkat's mouth is open but no words escape. He looks away for something to finish with and what comes to mind is a painfully hurt filled yell of, "I'm tired of your insensate personality and can't you even care just a little?!"

And Gamzee is so bewildered and shocked and unsure what to do that the only thing he says is, "Bro, maybe you just need to chill out a little."  
He didn't mean to say that, that was the last thing he meant to say. That was not the right thing to say, definitely not.

God, Karkat's even angrier now, he's turned towards Gamzee and is glaring at him, like he can't believe Gamzee is this insensitive towards how he feels.

And just when Gamzee thought something was going to happen, Karkat takes the cup Gamzee's holding—hand and all, and dumps the beverage out over his head, barking "The fuck ever, Gamzee."

He gets up from the sofa, shaking his head and spitting curses as he walks through the crowd, carving another determined path to the door. This time he passes over the threshold and slams the door after him, nobody in the party paying mind because this was not the place to worry.

Gamzee remains on the couch where people are starting to hang around him and they're saying thing to him— like "why aren't you partying?" or "come on dude, get dancing!" so he stands. He finds himself in the middle of the crowd, but hardly dancing, mainly mingling with the party-goers. Someone's handed him a drink and he's swallowing it like it's air.

The crowd is so hyper and awesome that he forgets all he just went through with Karkat, in fact, who's the motherfucker Karkat?

He doesn't know. He tries to pretend he doesn't know who Karkat is and pretend he didn't just argue with Karkat but he can't pretend. He can't pretend to not know him, so he decides that the fight wasn't that big of a deal and that Karkat will be over everything later. It's not a big deal, so no need to worry. Besides, this isn't the place for worrying.

He parties and ignores his sopping wet hair and makes some friends, even flirts a little which he knows Karkat would kill him for now probably. But he isn't worried. Because this isn't the place for worrying.

It's not the place.


	3. He's Nursing the Worst Hangover Ever

He's nursing the worst hangover ever.

The walk home is punishing because as he's replaying what happened at the party, people from it are walking along the sidewalk with him, talking about how bad their hangover is and how awesome the party was when all Gamzee wants to tell them is to shut the fuck up because he needs to sort some things out. What they believed to be the end to a great party was really the beginning to a series of brutal screams and internal conflicts to Gamzee.

All he remembers is getting into a fight with Karkat, actually Karkat getting into a fight with him because he did something to piss him off. That something happened to be sex and Gamzee can't believe it. He doesn't _want_ to believe it. Every time the sheer pain and hurt and hatred on Karkat's face replays through his mind, Gamzee wants to vomit. What makes the entire ordeal worse is that he doesn't doubt that he did, because he was drunk after all and shit happens when you're drunk.

He breaks off from the crowd of people who for some reason decide to go into town for some drink, and to wreak havoc no doubt. He walks down a road that seems to lead to no where and he's sure it doesn't lead anywhere either; he just wants to walk. He's not in the mood to go home anymore. He can't stand to be surrounded by his things now; he doesn't even want to be himself right now. This self loathing is so intense he wishes he could _rip _his skin _off;_ peel back the layers of selfishness and disappoint to reach a better part of him. But he doubts such a part exists. He wishes there were a way where he could be someone else, someone less insensitive and less high or drunk all the time. He wants to be someone opposite of how Karkat described him because if he could just get Karkat to smile, that'd mean the world to him.

Thinking of how Karkat stormed away from him at the party hurts too. Karkat was so angry with him that he did even get to apologize, but he doubts he would have apologized to Karkat anyways seeing as how drunk he was. He has a blurred memory of him telling Karkat he was the one who needed to calm his shit, and that maybe he should party. He feels disgusting and actually hates himself even more now. Karkat was only looking out for him, he didn't deserve to have someone like Gamzee- the exact person he always took care of- treat him like he was the problem.

A part of Gamzee, the self centered part of him, tells him maybe Karkat _is _the problem. Maybe he's the reason why Gamzee drinks like he's dying but Gamzee knows that's bullshit. But that part of him keeps talking- keeps blabbing, _it keeps blaming Karkat. _And it's starting to sound nice to blame Karkat. It sounds like an okay idea because Karkat doesn't _have_ to look after Gamzee. He just does and Gamzee doesn't know why.

Soon all the ideas his mind is coming up with are indisputable and attractive and agreeable. Gamzee becomes angry, but not with himself, but with Karkat. He decides it isn't his fault. It's obviously not Karkat's fault he had drunken sex with someone but it _is_ his fault he's hurt and angry with Gamzee because he became attached to protecting someone who didn't ask for protection.

"_FUCK ME!"_ Gamzee throws both hands over his eyes but he's not crying.

He's terrible, trying to blame Karkat for his own problem. He's a horrible person and a druggie and an alcoholic and _fuck-_

He wants to punch something but there's nothing to punch. He tells himself nothing's around to be punched because there's nothing that deserves to suffer from his anger with himself except himself. He changes directions.

He's going to go home and do nothing, maybe die because that's all he feels like doing. He feels like if he just died, life would be better again for everyone and Karkat wouldn't have to watch over him like a baby anymore. Karkat wouldn't have to suffer.

Gamzee walks home, hating the way his phone bounces against his thigh as he steps forward towards his empty home.


	4. He's Finally Succumbing

He's finally succumbing.

It's day five of his internal fight and Gamzee's finally cracking and succumbing to depression.

He remembers spending four agonizingly painful days wondering how—if at all—he would talk to Karkat. What would he say? How would he tell Karkat he was sorry? What if Karkat didn't forgive him? Today, he slowly starts to break down and decides that no matter how he apologizes to him, Karkat will never forgive him. He's done something terrible and unforgivable.

Right as he promises himself to just avoid Karkat from now on, his phone—the object which all his external and physical anger has been taken out on— rings obnoxiously and loudly.

Gamzee answers slowly, actually hoping he'll reach the phone too late and the ringing will stop, but his morals refuse to let him allow a phone call to go unanswered without at least trying to answer it.

He answers the phone just in time to hear someone on the other ending sighing.

"Hello?" His voice is terrible. It sounds groggy, old, and muggy.

"GZ." It's Sollux, someone who Gamzee doesn't usually converse with unless it involves him doing something.

Gamzee just mutters in a low, taciturn manner; too miserable to pronounce actual words. Sollux takes the lead and begins speaking; too fast and too articulate and succinct for Gamzee to comprehend in this state. All he hears is Sollux's eloquent pronunciation of everything he says but stumbling over most 's' sounds because of his lisp. Sometimes Gamzee likes to think Sollux would be a great motivational speaker if it weren't for his lisp. But then again, a lisp shouldn't hold him back. Gamzee should tell him this.

"You shouldn't let your lisp hold you back, bro. From becoming a motivational talker."

Sollux pauses awkwardly. "What? That had nothing to do with what I was talking about, GZ, come on. Like, I see what KK was talking about now, you don't pay attention at all. Listen to me."

He ignores that.

"Alright." Gamzee sits back on his bed.

"Anyways, I was asking if you'd meet me up at Carmelo's for some pizza."

"Uh..."

"You're not doing anything, don't try any bullshit 'I'm busy' or something. Everyone knows you're never busy, so just meet me up at the restaurant."

Gamzee agrees to meet up with Sollux at the pizza parlor he visits occasionally; only to eat, not to go see Karkat afterwards, he decides beforehand in case Sollux suggests they should.

He takes an incredibly long time to get ready, spending about thirty minutes standing aimlessly in the shower, just staring at the flow of water from the shower head. It gets in his eyes but he doesn't care.

He throws on a large shirt that just barely covers his navel and a pair of loose, polka dotted pants someone got him one insignificant day.

He presses his palm to his face, in a way calming himself before stepping out into the horrible world.

The sun shines brightly, the clouds moving apart as if to say hello but he knows better.  
He knows the world is dark.

He trudges for ten minutes, not bothering to walk faster to keep Sollux from waiting because Sollux had to know he wouldn't run to the pizza parlor.

It's on his way to the restaurant and when he's over halfway there, about to turn the second to last corner, that Gamzee realizes Sollux is Karkat's best friend and that he'll probably be there too.

Freezing in his tracks, he pulls his phone out his back pocket and dials Sollux's number.

The phone rings once and Gamzee decides if he doesn't answer, he'll just go back home. There's this terrible burning and dreading feeling in the bottom of his heart that tells him Karkat is without a doubt with Sollux, probably telling him his phone is ringing.

The ringing stops and the sound of Sollux saying 'Hello?' beats on Gamzee's ear drums.

"Bro, did you invite him?"

Sollux doesn't answer for a minute before saying, "Him, _who?"_

"You know! Karbro, the angry motherfucker, your best fucking friend."

"GZ-"

"Look, bro, if that fucker's there, I'm not showing up." Gamzee begins to turn back, stumbling over his feet a little in the process.

"GZ, come on, seriously,"

_"Gamzee? The fuck are you doing calling him? Tell that douchebag cumstain I said—" _The voice is so clear and rousing Gamzee wants to shout back at him through the phone and forget Sollux.

"KK, shut the _fuck_ up would you? Jeez, goddamn."

_"No, why should I? You said we were going to have lunch not dine with an asshole."_

"Just shut up!" Gamzee hears Karkat retaliate by grumbling to himself and he feels kind of bad.

He doesn't know why.

"Anyways, GZ, just meet up with us at Carmelo's, okay, seriously, you two need to work your problems out yourselves and not dump it on other people like me."  
What Sollux says strikes something in Gamzee and he suddenly feels obligated to at least show up, say hello, and then eat three slices of pizza in awkward silence. After that, he'll go home and think about Karkat and how he should have apologized.

He walks to Carmelo's because he decided there always was the chance Karkat chose to go home instead.


	5. He's Going to Throw up

He 's going to throw up. He feels it in his gut— literally.

It's about three thirty when he passes through the glass doors to Carmelo's. There are waitresses and waiters bustling about and carrying trays with large pizzas high over their heads. He looks over the seats for his friends and when he sees them, the sudden need to regurgitate becomes even more pressing. He can see the top of Karkat's messily combed black hair. He can tell that Karkat is without a doubt still pissed off, as he should be. Sollux's frame that isn't too large is just large enough to cover Karkat's face. Gamzee's glad for that. He's obviously not looking forward to the confrontation, and will be ready to bolt if need be. Actually seeing Karkat is different from hearing him over the phone. He's not so tough now, and not so angry. He's nervous and queezy and it shows on his face whenever he swallows and blinks excessively.

The smell of tomato sauce and meat is overwhelmingly pungent. The clink of forks and knives scraping plates rings in Gamzee's ears and he wonders if he's sick. Walking into a pizza parlor shouldn't be this painful or make him want to throw up so why does it though?

"Welcome to Carmelo's, would you like to be seated?" A girl, bright eyed and cheery asks Gamzee and he waves his hand.

"Nah, I'm with those guys," He doesn't specify who and she doesn't seem to care so he just walks to Karkat and Sollux.

They're seated in front of a TV where a football game is being projected. He knows Karkat without a doubt will glare holes through the TV as soon as he sits down and he won't blame him when he does.  
The twenty feet across the room seems like miles f or some reason, but Gamzee decides he's being dramatic.  
He walks past booths and tables and bumps into a few nice waitresses and waiters, praying Karkat doesn't notice and think he's about to fuck them.

"Hey," He holds up his left hand and waits for Karkat to at least mutter but all he does is give Gamzee a disinterested look sprinkled with 'I hate you' before looking angrily at the football game, something Gamzee knows he doesn't care about.

Gamzee's surprised he didn't throw up that second and a little grateful, but the feeling of sickness is worse now because he knows without a doubt, it will happen. Probably when he decides to finally actually talk to Karkat. But what are the chances of that happening? He never came up with a way to apologize, or a way to just pretend nothing ever happened and move on like they're still best friends even though he highly doubts they're even acquaintances. He settled on just never speaking to Karkat ever again. But that's stupid and cowardly and lame.

But he is all those things.

He feels like fucking shit.

"Hey GZ." Sollux's nonchalance puts Gamzee at ease.

"Yeah," Gamzee says to assure himself of something.

Sollux raises a hand and calls for their waitress as Gamzee sits down next to Karkat. He allots enough space to let Karkat know he understands the latter must hate him but sits close enough to let him know he wants to make amends. Karkat doesn't give a fuck.

"Alright, we're ready to order."

"Okay, what can I get for ya'?"

"One large pizza with one third anchovies and pepperoni—KK?"

Karkat throws Sollux a look Gamzee wishes he'd get because it's at least some form of acknowledgment.

"One third bacon," Sollux continues, somehow knowing exactly what Karkat wants. "GZ?"

"Pineapple." Gamzee answers. He hopes Karkat will make his usual comment that 'that's fucking weird' or something along the lines of 'now there's going to be stupid tropical fruit juice on my half, thanks asshole'.

He never gets a comment.

The waitress writes down their pizza orders and drink orders and walks away, promising to return with the beverages soon.  
The waitress is a nice looking, sweet, teenage girl, probably trying to make money for a car or some other thing. She's about Karkat's size, about five foot five inches tall, and a little chubby which only makes her cuter when put together with her rosy cheeks, strawberry blonde hair, and unrelenting white smile. Gamzee's sorry he and Karkat are probably going to make a scene in her place of employment.

"GZ, what's been up?" Sollux never usually cares what he's been up to, usually because all he's been up to is getting high.

"Nothing." Gamzee answers and he means it.

"Heh," Sollux looks at him. "Told you."

Gamzee just nods and smiles even though he doesn't like that people know him so well that they can tell he's got nothing better to do ever. He doesn't like the way Sollux is so proud of himself for getting Gamzee and Karkat in the same restaurant. What makes him angrier is that Karkat told Sollux about what was going on between them. That had nothing to do with Sollux so why tell him like he's the only person Karkat can confide in. What are they—boyfriends?

He feels even sicker.

Sollux is going on about something, something Karkat is talking about too. Gamzee tunes in but doesn't say anything because if it isn't obvious, Karkat won't be speaking if he is.

"Maybe if you didn't suck so much you'd be able to get past level five."

"It's not me, it's my stupid console. Dave came over with John and spilled fucking apple juice on it. I can't play anything now. I'm still debating whether I should go spill something on his console."

"Do it; make that motherfucker pay, KK."

"Maybe. He's the least of my problems. Besides, it's about time I get a new one anyways. I've been waiting for the newest version to come out and during the wait, I spent some of what I had on that game."

"I have the newest version. It's cool and if anything's pixelated this time, it's on purpose."

Karkat and Sollux laugh at the joke that falls deaf on Gamzee's ears.

"And if there are any bugs in the system I guess those are on purpose too, huh?"

"Definitely."

The waitress― Marisa, brings them their drinks and tells them their food will be out in ten minutes.

Ten minutes more he'll be seated next to Karkat just waiting for the pizza. He doesn't like how ten minutes suddenly is too long a wait. He takes up six minutes just sipping on his drink and pretending to be invested in the football game. He went to tons of games in high school but it was always with someone he hardly knew and he never even knew what was happening half the time because he was usually texting someone.

He chooses to ignore the person he was always texting was the person that's ignoring him now. He finds it o dd that he's being nostalgic now, in this place.

He almost never thinks of yesterday.

"Here's your pizza, boys."

"Thank you!" Sollux rubs his hands together as the pizza is laid on the table in front of him.

"Call me if you need anything." She walks off, her hips swaying from side to side and ponytail swinging back and forth.

"Alright, so I get the anchovies and pepperoni, KK gets the bacon and GZ gets the pineapple."

Karkat takes his slices first and dumps them on his plate. Sollux folds one slice of pizza horizontally and eats it like a sandwich.  
This is something Gamzee always enjoyed watching; the way they eat. He thinks it's funny that Sollux likes to have his slices folded before eating them and that Karkat never eats the tip first― he always goes to the side and takes a bite but he never eats the tip first. He doesn't seem to do this consciously either, it just happens which Gamzee likes even more. He takes a bite of his pizza.

"Oh goddamnit,"

"What?" Sollux asks through a mouthful of fish and Italian.

"There's fuckin' pineapple juice on my bacon."  
Gamzee would smile were he not afraid of provoking Karkat. This one comment makes Gamzee feel like Karkat has acknowledged him in a way.

"Just deal with it," Sollux comments and Karkat shoots him a look that tells him to fuck off. "God, this pizza is amazing." He begins. "It's like heaven is dancing on my palate and… it's orgasmic."

Karkat stops eating mid bite to stare him down.

"Calm down, you're not having sex with the pizza you're eating it― I hope."

"You don't know what I'm into."

"I don't give a shit what you're into, just don't orgasm when I'm trying to eat my goddamn daily one thousand calorie snack food. If I'm going to eat my way into comatose, I'd rather do it without my best friend jizzing his pants in front of me."

"Hehheh… suck my dick, KK." Sollux jokes and Karkat smiles back something frighteningly serious looking.

"Whip it out then."

They both laugh and shake their heads and Gamzee is certain he's going to throw up now.

He doesn't feel better anymore, he feels gross and wants to tell them to quit with the sex jokes but he doesn't know why. He wants them to shut up about jizzing and orgasming and anything that has to do with them being physical― isn't it just the most disgusting and sickening thing anyone's ever heard? Gamzee hates seeing them interact right now, he hates the way Karkat laughs at Sollux's jokes when whenever he tells a joke, Karkat just shakes his head and brushes him off because he's high. Why is it he and Sollux are getting along so well when he and Gamzee can't even look at each other?

He suddenly comes to the conclusion that they're dating.

And, suddenly, the pizza is gross.

Gamzee puts his slice down and drinks his drink until there's nothing left and then excuses himself to go to the bathroom. He stands in there for maybe five, ten, fifteen, minutes until he goes back to the table.

The tray's been picked up and Sollux and Karkat are sitting on the same side of the table, hovered over Sollux's phone.

"KK, dude, we have to go to this."

"Yeah, when is it?"

"Three weeks from tomorrow."

"Do we have to bring stuff?"

"I'll ask."

Karkat nods and watches Sollux type in a long message. Gamzee sits awkwardly on the other side.

"She said just the usual stuff."

"Got it,"

He has no clue what they're talking about but just knows he doesn't like that they're planning to do something together.

"Hey, GZ, you want to come?"

Karkat looks up and their eyes meet. There's no spark and Gamzee was more or less expecting one.

"Where to?"

"The new game release, you know the one."

Gamzee doesn't know the one but he doesn't want to be left out the loop so he agrees to go with them.

Karkat doesn't seem to care but no one was expecting him to.

They leave Carmelo's after paying for the pizza and leaving their table with a ten dollar tip, three empty cups, a pile of dirty napkins, and three unfinished slices of pineapple pizza.

* * *

AN:

I... remember going onto tumblr to look at some stuff... and then... I was stuck on it... so I had to make an account... and then I had to _post_ things and when you post things you want to post more _so_... shrug.

Screwing around on tumblr was a hard addiction to overcome. I did it so I could post this chapter ^p^

**Thank you all** so much for the reviews and such! When I read or receive them, I want to update as soon as possible because they make me so happy, so thank you!

Okay, bye C:


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